


one night stand in gotham

by iv (ivan)



Series: drop our anchors in a storm [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Telltale Series (Video Game), DCU
Genre: F/M, Vanilla, charlie is my canon/oc shipping bike
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 09:06:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10964091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivan/pseuds/iv
Summary: charlie is a young woman who can't stay in one place for very long; her lifestyle makes her cross paths - and not only paths, wink wink - with some interesting people.





	one night stand in gotham

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a long time since i've written anything even remotely nsfw, so my skills and vocabulary are probably a little rusty. sorry.  
> charlie is my oc that i use for canon/oc ships with characters i want to bang. this is as self-indulgent as it gets.  
> tumblr: http://transgressivepotato.tumblr.com/post/160918245655/charlies-series-of-one-night-stands-gotham-city

She was in a bar in Canada, somewhere around Winnipeg. The day was cold and cloudy and all she wanted was a beer and a break – so she headed to the nearest bar, a tiny, crowded place, filled with smoke, voices and cheap booze.

The bartender's name was Evelyn – „Evie for friends, but these days we all gotta stick together, so call me Evie, love” - as she told her, as soon as she sat down.

„So we're exchanging names?”, she asked, smiling lightly. „Fine. My name's Charlie.”

„That's a lovely name, darling. So, Charlie, what can I serve you?”

„Whiskey on rocks.”

„Your accent says you're not from around here.”, Evie said, pouring her drink. „Where do you come from?”

„How do I sound?”

„Well, you sound like you're from that godforsaken hellhole of a city called Gotham.”

„Fuck, seriously?”, Charlie sighed, tapping on the countertop with her long nails – today they were painted black. „You wound me. Do I really sound like I'm from there?”

„You do. I would know, I grew up there.”

„Huh.”

Charlie took a sip and smiled, shaking her head. She put the glass down and once again looked at Evelyn, brushing some loose auburn curls away from her face.

„Funny thing, I was there recently.”, she admitted, tapping her foot to the tune of the song playing in the background. „A month ago, I think.”

„Did you like it?”, Evie asked, with a mischievous glimmer in her eyes. Charlie laughed quietly, already knowing the right answer – it was in Evie's eyes, in the way she moved, in the way she rolled her eyes a bit when she mentioned the city.

„It sure is one of a kind.”, she said. „I never saw so many criminals in one place, and I'm travelling all over the globe.”

„I heard it had gotten much worse lately. Ever heard of the Waynes?”

„Oh, please.”, Charlie snorted. „Half of the city belongs to them, not to mention that giant tower AND that golden plaque. Is it really pure gold?”

„So I heard.”, Evie nodded, looking at something – someone – behind Charlie. „Calm down, gents, or I'll kick you out!”, she said suddenly, in a tone much louder and harsher. Suddenly it became crystal clear why she's the bartender – something in her voice made the arguing men calm down instantly

 _Maybe she has a superpower,_ Charlie thought. _Maybe that's why she left Gotham._

„Why did you come to Canada?”

„Well, for starters, it's not United States and I didn't have money for any other plane ticket.”, Evie said, shrugging nonchalantly, her silver hair glimmering in the dim lamplight. „Fresh start and all that crap.”

„Fresh start from what?”, she asked, sliding her finger around the rim of her glass.

„From an asshole named Tony. Those Gotham boys...”

Evelyn paused for a moment, shook her head and sighed.

„Those Gotham boys shouldn't be kept around for long. They are all the same – all flash and no substance, will make you scream at night, and then cry in the morning, when you realize your wallet is gone, along with your fucking heart.”

Evie sighed again and started to wipe the counter with a piece of cloth. Charlie nodded, finished her drink and set the glass down.

„Well, my Gotham one night stand didn't steal anything from me. He was incredible in bed and I wish he gave me his number, but I guess I was lucky.”

„Who knows, maybe in turn you stole his heart.”, Evie said, smiling lightly. „Maybe he'll come barging through the door, looking for you.”

„I wouldn't mind another night, yes.”, Charlie said, winking at her. „But that's unlikely. He was... Deeply rooted in that city. I don't think he's going to ever leave it.”

„He sounds half decent. Maybe he should leave that city.”

„Yeah? Why?”

„Ah, that's one hell of a story. I'll get back to you in a moment.”

She stepped away, to take care of some other thirsty patrons. Charlie looked at her absentmindedly, not having anything better to do.

Despite her age – Charlie decided Evie is probably around sixty – she was moving gracefully, there was spring in her step. She kept her head high and her back straight - „head up, boobs out”, like Charlie's old roomie used to call this posture. Her silver hair were long and thick and her sharp, narrow face was just straight up gorgeous. Evelyn was a beautiful woman – and Charlie knew she's going to hear one hell of a story, judging by the spark in her amber eyes.

„So.”, she said when Evie came back to her. „What's going on in the city of heartbreakers and assholes?”

Evie laughed, poured her another drink – and another one for herself – and pulled her phone out of her pocket, opening some news app. She handed the phone to Charlie and winked at her.

„Just because I left doesn't mean I don't read Gotham Gazette from time to time. Go on, read... Read the ten latest articles.”

Hiding her slight disappointment – she was hoping for a juicy tale – Charlie picked up the phone and started scrolling through the app, filtering out the stuff she already knew about Gotham. Batman... Filtered out. Massive spike in crime... Filtered out. Upcoming elections... Triple filtered out, she didn't care about the local politics. A man called Penguin... Not filtered out.

„Holy fuck!”, she said, smiling widely and enthusiastically tapping the photo of a masked man in a suit. „I know this guy!”

„Well, you should call the Gotham police then. He's a wanted criminal.”  
„No, you don't understand. I know him... In the biblical sense. We fucked. He's my one night stand! The one who didn't steal my wallet!”

„Wait, darling, are you sure?”, Evie asked, leaning towards her, visibly intrigued. „ That's him? You definitely should call the cops. Who knows, maybe they'll pay you.”

„Yeah, and tell them what exactly?”, Charlie snorted, still staring at a photo, remembering how the man looked without his dead-bird-shaped mask. „Hello, yes, I have a valuable info on the Penguin. I know what his dick looks like. It's PIERCED. I repeat: the Penguin pierced his DICK!”

Evie snorted, covering her mouth and waving the free hand. There were tears in her eyes, Charlie noticed with satisfaction; good. They were on the right track to becoming really good friends.

„Oh, I want to know all the details.”, she said finally, after calming down a bit. „Hang around for a while, would ya? I'm closing in a few hours and then I'm all ears.”

„No problem, I love to talk about my conquests.”, she said with a smirk. „In the meantime though can I get some fries? I'm starving.”

„Honey, you're the girl who fucked the Penguin of Gotham City. This is going to be the best story I've heard in a long time. I can get you anything you want.”

Charlie grinned in response and stretched out, yawning loudly. She needed attention – and Evie was giving her just the right kind of attention.

She spent the next few hours catching up with events in Gotham, looking around and dismissing various drunk Don Juan wannabes. None of them was her type, except for one – the dark skinned, lean woman in a business suit; but she was drunk and Charlie wasn't that kind of person.

When the closing hour finally came, she helped Evie with kicking out last of the patrons, cleaning up the tables and locking the place up. Finally, they sat in her small living room – which was just above the bar – with cups of hot cocoa with marshmallows in hands. It wasn't the first time a total stranger was completely charmed by her, and she was sure it wasn't the last – but it sure as hell was the most pleasant one.

Plus it felt nice to be able to gossip about sex with someone like Evie – someone with their own fair share of adventures.

So she started talking, pausing from time to time to take a sip from her huge mug – and judging by Evelyn's face, she was indeed telling one hell of a story.

***

She arrived in Gotham shortly after leaving that small, weird town by the river, the one famous for its maple syrup production. Her leads that made her show up there turned out to be cold and useless – and the only good think to happen to her during her stay there was a long night with a certain biker. A handsome man, bit of an asshole, but with his heart in the right place – exactly her kind of man, in all his leather loving ruggedness.

So when she showed up in Gotham – the biggest city she visited in a long time – she was kind of pissed off. Tired. In need of both distraction and motivation. She was desperate for a lead – any lead, really – and she vaguely remembered that piece of shit Harry talking about having a cousin in Gotham.

She knew her name and what she did for a living, so she decided it's just a matter of miraculously coming across a good and cheap private eye, willing to help her out – nothing too complicated. Charlie decided it's time to give herself a short break – unwind, have some fun, maybe buy some new shoes, because her old boots were starting to fall apart.

She heard Gotham has much to offer in terms of night life – a lot of clubs and bars, drugs, liquor and sex costing about the same; though she wasn't sure whether „the same” meant „dirt cheap” or maybe „who even can afford that?!”.

So she wandered from club to club, looking around, sometimes admiring the – mostly crumbling, but still breathtakingly beautiful – architecture, wondering why Gotham feels so wrong during the day and so right during the night. Night was her time anyway; she loved its sense of mystery, anonymity and danger.  
Well, okay, Gotham was equally dangerous both during the day and during the night, but Charlie always had a flair for the dramatic.

One night though she somehow wandered into a place she wasn't supposed to be – again. That was her superpower – always finding that one place that's not going to welcome her with darts, cheap booze and comfortable stools. She heard about this place from a drunk man in another part of the town – it was well hidden, so most people didn't know about it. What he didn't tell her though – and what she didn't figure out until the last minute – was that it was hidden for a reason.

„Reason” being, obviously, being mafia occupied.

 _Well, fuck,_ Charlie thought, as the bouncer put his hand on her shoulder and started dragging her in a direction that most definitely was not the exit. _Well, shit._

And then – he showed up.

„Hey, mate!”, she heard a man calling out after the bouncer; he had a thick, british accent. „Leave my friend 'ere alone, she's with me.”

The bouncer stopped, but he didn't take his hand off her shoulder. He turned around to face the man, forcing her to turn with him.

The British guy was tall, rugged and handsome, very handsome. Exactly her type of handsome. He reminded her of her previous adventure – but this one was a bit younger, and was wearing a trenchcoat instead of a leather jacket.

„I was looking for you!”, she said to him, hoping he'll play along. She gave him her most charming, genuine smile, noticing his eyeing her up and down, pausing for a moment – of course – at hear cleveage.

„Paul, be a darling, let her go.”, the stranger said finally, returning his attention to the bouncer, who – hesitantly – let her go.

The stranger continued.

„It's been a while since my last tête-à-tête with Charlie” - she blinked quickly, hearing her name spoken by this man she never met - „so please, kindly do fuck off.”

The stranger put his arm around her waist and started leading her between the tables, ignoring all the stares and whispers.

„Do we know each other?”, she muttered to him under her breat; in response he tightened his grip a bit.

„Not now, darlin'.”, he muttered. „I have a private room reserved on the back.”

He smelled of cologne – of course he did, they always smelled of cologne – whiskey and smoke.

When the door to his private room closed behind them he let go of her; she fixed her hair and straightened her dress, as he – mockingly gallantly – bowed, taking her hand.

„Oswald Cobblepot.”, he said, lightly brushing her hand with his lips and looking into her eyes.

„Well, my name's Charlie.”, she said cautiously, watching as he takes off his coat and throws it on the floor. „So, I have a few questions for you, Oswald.”

„And I'll gladly answer 'em, considering you now have to spend some time with me.”, he said with a devious grin, falling onto the nearest chair. „There's no escape.”

„Ha-ha, very funny.”, she sighed, rolling her eyes, and sat down on the opposite side of the room.

Just as she was opening her mouth, there was a knock at a door. Oswald sighed with annoyance.

„What?!”, he snarled, as the door opened and a waiter entered the room.

„Is everything alright?”, he asked calmly, glancing briefly at Charlie and focusing on Oswald. „Do you need anything?”

„I could go for a martini.”, Charlie said, crossing her legs and grinning at Oswald. „Your treat... Friend?”

„Everything for you, darling.”, he said carelessly, looking at the waiter. „You heard the lady! A martini for her and a bourbon for me. Take your time.”

When the door closed, he returned his attention to her.

„Do we know each other?”, she repeated her earlier question, playing with the hem of her dress. „I don't remember you.”

„Oh, I have friends all around the world, Charlie.”, he said calmly, winking at her. „I know a lot about you.”

Seeing her surprised expression he laughed and shook his head.

„Nah, I'm just fucking with you. That was a lucky guess. Never seen you before, but hey – I'm a gentleman. I just wanted to help.”

„I'm not a damsel in distress.”, she retorted, way sharper than she intended to. „I had this under control.”

„Sure you did, darlin'.”

He shot her a quick grin and she instantly knew where exactly this situation is going.

They received their drinks and were left alone again. She moved to another chair, one standing a bit closer to where he was located.

„So, Charlie.”, he said after trying his drink. „You're not from 'round 'ere, are you?”

„If I was from around here I wouldn't be in this bar, genius.”

„That was a rhetorical question. I know you're not from around 'ere, so the question is... Where are you from?”

„Why do you care?”, she asked in return, taking the olive from her glass between her fingers and squeezing it gently.

„Well, I want to get to know you, Charlie. I thought that's obvious, me taking you to my private room and all.”

She laughed and batter her long lashes at him, finally looking at him properly, one final moment of hesitation before making a decision.

„Okay, Oswald... Fuck, is there a shorter version? That's a mouthful.”

„Oh I'm a mouthful alright.”, he said nonchalantly and she groaned. „But sure. You can call me Oz.”

„Alright, Oz. Ozzie.”, she said, still playing with her olive. „Let's get to know each other.”

Before long, they were in a cab, on their way to get to know each other. She couldn't decide what was the deciding factor – his grin? His face in general? His hands? Or maybe his scars? She didn't know and she didn't care. Another one to her list of enjoyable evenings. Another lost piece of underwear. Oswald Cobblepot wasn't a patient man – and she liked that impatience. She was sure their driver appreciates it a lot less, with all the feeling up going on in the backseat of his cab, but they tipped well. Back in the room, between a kiss on the neck and a hand sliding up her thigh, they decided on his place – he was taking care of his friend's luxorious flat, plus there was something he wanted her to see. She agreed. With his hand under her dress she'd agree to everything.

He wasn't lying about the flat – it was luxurious; but she only cared about the amount of flat surfaces – she was getting really impatient and really, really into it – and the mysterious thing he wanted her to see so badly.

It was... Disappointing. Not at all what she expected; she was hoping for something useful in their situation, maybe for some custom made luxurious toys, not a gas mask. It was shaped like a bird skull, sure – he informed her it's shaped like a penguin skull – but it was not at all relevant to why she came here with him.

„Oz, I don't care.”, she said, interrupting him. „Don't ruin the mood.

She grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him closer. The mask fell to the floor and rolled under the bed; he put his hands on the mattress and leaned in, pushing against her chest; she started to ruffle his hair lazily, feeling some old scars on the back of his neck under her fingers.

Rest of the evening – and the night, and the morning after – was both a blur and one of her sharpest, most distinct memories. Everything was both fuzzy like the hazy view outside and sharp like her nails on his back. It was impossible to focus on just one sensation; he'd make her feel like she's dissolving with his teasingly gentle touch, only to bring her back with a sudden pinch or with a light bite.

He had long, slender fingers, marked with scars here and there. In the back of her head – when she was still able to form coherent thoughts – she concluded he probably used to be a pianist; and his firm grip on her wrists kept her from further scarring his back. He was covered in scars, old and new – and she very much enjoyed the vision of him covered in smudged blood.

He eventually did draw her blood – he bit her collarbone just a bit too hard and she winced, torn between the stinging pain and the feeling of his fingers inside her. He smiled and winked at her, his lips covered in her blood.

„You alright?”, he asked, and lazily brushed her neck with his bloodied lips. She felt the warm stickiness and sighed deeply, closing her eyes.

„I'm trying to come, you know. You're not helping.”, she eventually said, her eyes still closed and her wrists still in his iron grip. She bucked her hips and groaned.

„Oh, I can help with that.”

„Well, what are you waiting for?”

He was lightly tapping his fingers on her abdomen, distracting her from her own train of thought. She opened one eye; he was looking at her with a grin on his face, visibly waiting for something.

„Oh.”, she finally realized. „You fuck.”

„You're not helping.”, he muttered, planting a lazy kiss on her neck and brushing her sensitive skin with his infuriating stubble. „Come on, Charlie, say it.”

The light tapping turned into gentle massage and she let out a moan.

„Okay, okay...”, she breathed out, trying to concentrate. The touch ceased. „Please.”

„See? That wasn't so hard.”, he whispered and let go of her wrists. With a grin and a series of quick, light bites and kisses he lowered himself and put his hands on her thighs, gently pushing them apart.

The world quickly turned into a blur when his lips – and his wicked tongue – found her center.

She could feel his hair under her fingers – and when he made her scream for the first time, she in return made him wince in pain by pulling his hair. He grabbed her wrists again, pressing her onto the mattress.

„Oh, did that hurt?”, she gasped out, staring into his eyes. „Poor thing.”

„Shut up.”, he responded; he let go of her wrists – she was started to think he has a thing for holding his partners like this – and pulled away.

He was looking for something in the drawer of a nearby nightstand; rumaging furiously through its contents. She giggled.

„What, you lost something?”

„Take a wild guess.”, he said, with one hand on a zipper of his pants.

She stretched out lazily, enjoying the way he looks at her breasts, now covered in bitemarks and love bites.

„Get back here.”, she said eventually, looking at him with her eyes half closed. „I have an implant for that. Way ahead of you, Scruffy.”

He smirked, got out of his pants and came back to her, to her embrace, to her skin, and rest of their time together was a blur only filled with not so tender touches, bloody kisses and moans and sighs muffled by the other one's skin. Oz was a man of many talents, and he put almost all of them to use during that long night.

When she woke up he was still asleep. He looked almost peaceful – his scars and her blood smeared on his face ruined the illusion. He was still very handsome though, and she almost regretted she can't stay longer. She left him a note – a really genuine one. One last time she ran her hand through his hair and just like that she was out of that flat, and out of his life.

***  
Mentally back in Canada Charlie finished her cocoa and put her mug down. Evie let out a satisfied sigh.

„So you really fucked the Penguin.”, she said, shaking her head. „Holy shit.”

„I know, right? I'd stay longer if I knew what's going to become of him. Maybe I'd blow him.”

„Is that what you're into? Criminals?”, Evie asked, raising her eyebrow. Charlie laughed in response.

„Not really, but it would be one hell of a story. And a cool new nickname. The Birdblower.”

„That sounds absolutely terrible.”  
„Yeah, it does. Still better than „that heinous bitch” though.”

Evelyn stretched out and put her legs on the couch, still staring at Charlie.

„I wonder if he remembers you.”, she admitted suddenly. „Don't get me wrong, darling, he's definitely not a romantic hero, but here we are, chatting about his pierced junk. Do you think he tells his friends about you?”

„I don't really care.”, Charlie admitted; she wasn't telling the truth, but she wasn't lying either. „Maybe I'll find out some day. We'll see.”

She got up, picked up her backpack and put on her jacket. It was time for her to leave; not this particular town, no – she had some unfinished business here – but it was time for her to go to the motel and get some sleep.

„Thanks for the nice evening, Evie. I might drop by later this week to say bye.”

„Well, I hope so. Take care, kid.”

She left Evie on the couch in her living room, absorbed by memories of all the men she treated same way Tony treated her once, all those years ago.

When she was outside, in the cold, she pulled out her phone and went to Gotham Gazette webpage. In the meantime they published a new story on the Penguin; for a moment she considered reading it, but eventually she closed the page without opening the article. The past should stay in the past – there's no point of living in it; though she really wondered if he kept her note for some reason.

She hoped not.

 

 


End file.
